


Take me Home (a Far From Home fix-it)

by Allegra_Soleil



Series: Tumblr requests and imagines [9]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Peter Parker has a dirty little mouth, Peter and Reader are 18 BECAUSE I SAID SO, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 18:54:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20747078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allegra_Soleil/pseuds/Allegra_Soleil
Summary: That scene in the Tulips field, but instead of Happy, it's you who comes to Peter's aid.He's battered and bruised and in need of comfort.Porn with feelings, as always, can be read as a stand alone.





	Take me Home (a Far From Home fix-it)

The deafening noise of the Jet landing was music to Peter’s sore ears -he was sore everywhere actually, being hit by a train would do that to you- but the vision of you coming out of the plane was what finally brought him to his knees.

When he had called mister Stark a couple of hours before to come pick him up like the lost little boy he felt like, the more logical part of his brain knew he wasn’t going to come flying to his rescue in his IronMan armor like so many times before. In fact Tony Stark was never going to wear an armor again. His mentor had survived the final snap, but just barely, losing his arm and shoulder in the process, and the damage to his heart meant that he would not be able to be Iron Man anymore.

But somehow it had never occurred to Peter that he would send you instead. Watching you come down those steps, what dis occurred to him was that nobody had ever looked so good in a dress as you did right then in your red wrap dress, coming his way in that field, surrounded by a thousand colorful tulips, flower petals falling all around you. It was unreal, you looked like a dream, a fantasy… or a hallucination.

“Stop!” He demanded from his place kneeling on the ground, stopping you on your tracks. You took in his disheveled state, bruises covering his face and undoubtedly his body too, eyes red and swollen from crying, and the urge to run to him hit you double but you obeyed. “Y/n? Is that really you?”

You frowned,

“Am I… Of course I’m really me! Peter what is going on?”

He seemed almost afraid of looking at you, avoiding your eyes as he implored,

“Then tell me something only you and I would know. Please, if you’re really her, prove it. I can’t stand another nightmare, I just can’t…”

“The night of the day we met, we kissed at the Eiffel tower,” You answered without skipping a beat.

“No!” He interrupted you, frantic, “No, I told him that! Something else, tell me something else!”

You casted a wary look at Happy standing only a few yards away from you, but complied anyway,

“A couple of weeks ago, we snuck out of your birthday party and made love on the lake shore under the stars, while everyone was looking for us to cut the cake” You ignored Happy’s scandalized “YOU DID WHAT?” and went on,  
“Pepper actually found us in the middle of it but she didn’t tell on us. She said it would be hypocritical to let Tony to lecture us when…”

“When she had walked in on him on the same situation a hundred times” Peter finished for you

“Yeah…” You said weakly. Peter sighed in relief, and he was the one to finally run to you. He held you a little too tight, burying his face on the crook of your neck and breathing you in. No hallucination would ever be able to replicate the soft perfume of your skin or the feeling of your body in his arms. He couldn’t help the chocked sob that escaped his throat,

“You were dead” You could feel his tears falling down your shoulder, his words muffled against your skin, “You snapped your fingers and it killed you, it burned you up…”

“But it wasn’t me” You tighten your arms around his shoulders, trying to offer him some comfort, “That was my dad, remember? He used the glove and defeated Thanos, and he almost died, yeah, but you saved him…”

“We saved him,” he corrected you, like you were expecting him to, “You and me and the doctor… we- we saved him”

“So it couldn’t have been me, see?” You reasoned.

“No- I know that” He accepted, “It’s just-… it was so real! I thought I had lost you…”

“No,_ I_ am real” you pointed out, “and I am here with you”

That seemed to finally do the trick and he leaned back to look into your eyes, letting go of you just to cup your face with his hands.  
“Yeah,” he let out under his breath, a little amazed, “yeah, you are”

You didn’t know who initiated the kiss, which one of you was the first to cross the few inches that separated you, and honestly, you didn’t care. Not with Peter’s soft lips moving against yours, teeth coming out to delicately nibble on your bottom lip in a silent request that you gladly conceded. Peter always kissed you like you were something precious, something to be cherished. Always starting out soft and slow, and building up till the fire igniting within the two of you became almost unbearable, exploding into a million colors behind your eyelids, making you come alive in a way not even flying in your Ironheart suit a million miles an hour managed to.

Before the kiss could get heated, though, a throat cleared loudly behind you. But the intrusive noise only succeeded in making Peter kiss you a little more insistently.

“Oh, for the love of-… get away from each other before I pry you apart with a crowbar!” ordered Happy, “Don’t think I wouldn’t!”

You let go of Peter and he took a step back, turning to Happy

“Hey, happy” He greeted, sheepishly, “Nice to see you…”

“Oh, please, save it” He replied, straight faced, “Let’s get on the plane so you can explain to me long has this” he gestured between you and Peter “been going on and if the boss knows you’re smooching his daughter.”

...

“Dad already brief me on the whole situation with Mysterio and the EDITH glasses,” You filled Peter in once inside the jet, “He can block his access to the network but for now he’s letting him believe he’s in control until we can figure out his next target and pin down his location”

You were suddenly all business.  
It was as if a switch had turned, and you went instantly into agent mode. He wondered vaguely if you knew you did that. And if you knew how hot that was.

“Wait, mister Stark can block the glasses?”

“Well, of course he can” You explained, “ the glasses are the prototype, but you couldn’t possibly believe those are the only interface we have for the Stark Global Defense System…”

With every second passing, Peter felt stupider and stupider.

“Right, of course not,” He limped to the sit in front of you, “that would- that would be absurd…”

“You’re hurt” You noticed, “Happy, bring me the first aid kit, please”

“I’m not your butler, you know?”

You threw an unimpressed look at him, and you were sure he was about to get up his seat to fetch the kit, caving in under the pressure of the Stark Bitchface ™, when his phone rang.

“Sorry, I have to take this” He hurriedly got up and ran to the cockpit in a desperate quest for privacy “Hi, babe!..” You caught right before he closed the door, effectively locking himself from view.

You and Peter exchanged a amused look,  
“What the hell was that?”

“I think Happy has a girlfriend!” Marveled Peter.

You laughed, and even Peter chuckled a little. You made a note to thank Happy later for putting a smile on his face when he so obviously needed it.

“I’ll go get the kit, you wait here” You decided before leaving Peter on the armchair and disappearing inside the jet’s bathroom.

It made him uneasy, not having you in sight. A couple weeks felt like two years. And yes, you had unwittingly broke his heart (again), but it was obvious to him that you hadn’t done so un purpose. He had spent too much time apart from you already, he didn’t want to miss you anymore, specially not after realizing you still wanted him. So he gritted his teeth against the pain and went to find you.

It was worth it, he decided, every second of discomfort only to see you like that: On your tip toes, reaching for the box inside the cabinet, short dress riding up your thighs, long hair falling around your shoulders, skin glowing even under the unflattering fluorescent lights. Your fingers fumbled to open the latch, unsuccessfully.

“Stop staring at me, I can’t concentrate when you look at me like that!” You called him out. He smiled at the floor, feeling his cheeks heating up.

“How did you know I was staring?”

“I can always tell when you’re looking at me” You turned to find him leaning on the door, “I can feel your eyes on me… Come, since you came all this way, I might as well patch you up here” You closed the toilet lid and motioned for him to sit. He did so obediently while you finally got the kit out.

“You’re doing it again…”

“Sorry, I just can’t get over how beautiful you are,” He spilled out “it’s Ironic actually, considering I had a plan on six steps to get over you this summer…”

Only the slightest stuttering in your heart rhythm and your sudden breath intake let him know he had upset you. Outwardly you kept on taking bandages out of the box.

“You wanted to get over me?” You asked, as casually as you managed. Peter cursed himself for bringing it up; What was wrong with him? If friends with benefits was all you were willing to offer, he would take it. Gladly. You owed him no explanations, you owed him nothing. And yet, he couldn’t help to want  
more…

He sighed,

“Yeah, I kinda did. I woke up after my birthday and you were gone, just… gone. No goodbye, no explanation, no calls… not even my texts were getting through and… it hurt” He explained without looking up, “It was like Paris all over again and I just-…”

“Wait,” You interrupted him, confused, “ you did know dad grounded me after Paris, right?”

To Peter’s blank look, you exclaimed,

“Oh my god, you didn’t know! Tony banned me from technology, and there was no way of getting your contact info out of him without him getting suspicious, that’s the only reason I didn’t call then!”

Peter knew he was going to hate himself for asking, but he couldn’t help himself,

“And what about this time?”

“There was an emergency, and Strange took me with him to fight it, said it could only be me. I wasn’t even in this dimension, that’s why my phone wasn’t working.” You shook your head, “I wrote you a letter, Happy was supposed to give it to you… I guess he didn’t”

You rubbed your face with your hands, obviously frustrated. Peter stood, taking them into his own.

“Hey,” he whispered softly, “look at me, hey!” You finally met his eyes and he smiled, “There you are, it doesn’t matter, we’re together now, so everything’s ok”

“It’s not, Peter! A mistake just like this is what killed Romeo and Juliet!” You protested. He snorted,

“Good thing I didn’t killed your cousin and you’re not engaged, then”

You smiled a little at that,  
“I’m still killing Happy when this is all over…”

He just shrugged noncommittally, or at least tried to, cause it pulled at the cut on his back. His twitch and pained face didn’t go unnoticed. You tugged at the hem of his t-shirt,

“Take it off”

His eyes went wide,

“What?”

“Take off your shirt” you repeated, “let me have a look at that injury”

“Right, you need to… sure. Of course.”

Your smirked was wiped right off your face as soon as his chest was exposed. That night at the lake, it had been dark. But in that bathroom under the bright lights, you could actually see all the hard planes of his body that you remembered feeling against your own. You shook yourself, now it was not the time, not with him hurt and needing your help. He turned around wordlessly to let you look at his back. Most of his bruises and scratches were already fading before your eyes, leaving fresh scars that would disappear soon as well, but one particular cut high on his shoulder was going to need sutures. You looked around at the tiny bathroom, there wasn’t really a lot of space to do this and it would have been more practical to get back at the lounging area and do his stitches comfortably in one of the sofas or something, but you selfishly didn’t want to give up your closeness, the illusion of intimacy the bathroom offered. 

And you were a Stark, after all, you were selfish by nature, so you just pushed him softly until he was sitting back on the closed lid of the toilet. Then tapped at his knee so he would separate his legs further and stepped between them. You always marveled at how easily you were able to manhandle him, given his super strength. The knowledge that he was actively letting you do it made you feel exited and powerful in a way you didn’t fully understand yet, but it thrilled you nonetheless.

“Wha- what are you doing?” He stuttered from somewhere near your cleavage.

“Stitching you up, what does it look like?” You answered without stopping threading the surgical thread through the curved needle.

“Oh. Right. Of course.” You could practically feel the heath coming out of his, sure to be crimson, face. Despite you being as careful as you could, he still hissed in pain when the needle pierced through his skin.

“Sorry, I promise I’m trying to be gentle” You apologized, placing soft, soothing kisses on his hair. He hummed in acknowledgment against your breasts, sending goosebumps through your skin. You finished up, letting your fingers linger on his naked shoulder a little longer than necessary. After distractedly  
discarding the needle you placed a little kiss on the unharmed skin beside the cut.

“There, all better now”

He cleared his throat,  
“I- um… I have other injures if you wanna, you know… kiss and make'em better” He suggested shyly. You smirked.

“Do you, now?”

He nodded, looking up at you with the big brown innocent eyes that were your weakness.

“Show me.”

He gulped but obeyed, straitening up a little and pointing at his chest, were a red angry line had still to fade completely. You gave it a small peck. Next came a rather big, purple bruise on his ribcage, that you had to kneel on the floor in front of him in order to reach better. Then another, lower on his stomach, that had him biting his lip to stop from moaning.

After the last one, right on the sharp bone of his hip, was taken care of, you stopped to look up at him from your position kneeling between his legs: He was breathing hard, chest heaving and slacked jawed, pupils blown wide with lust. You smoothed your hand over his lower abdomen, and watched appreciatively as the muscles there rippled under his skin. God, you were going to get in so much trouble for this! But as you hoisted yourself up the floor and went for the door, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Realization dawned on Peter’s eyes as you locked the door and turned around to face him.

“Happy is going to know exactly what we’re doing here. You know that, right?”

“I know” You replied, “But I need you badly right now and I think… I think you need me too?” You added, almost timidly, vulnerably.

And Peter felt his heart break inside his chest because of you again, but this time in a completely different way; because how? How could he be so cruel as to let you keep on wondering if what you were feeling was one-sided? How could he deny you what the very blood inside his veins was screaming at him to give you? What every cell on his body was demanding at him to take in return?

The same kind of terrifying, exhilarating feeling that had taken over the both of you back in Paris returned with a vengeance, as he took a step towards you, caging you between his body and the closed door.

“You’re insane. And I must be crazy” He shook his head, cause there was no doubt about it, “I’m crazy for you”

He captured your lips, hands tangling on your hair, tilting your face just so, tongue licking at your bottom lip just before biting it, taking full advantage of the little moan that left your mouth to deepen the kiss and force another helpless sound out of your throat that had his head swimming.

One of his hands left your hair to caress your neck, thumb rubbing delicately the side of your jaw first, and your collarbone later, only to skim over the swell of your breast on his way down to finally rest above the little bow that tied your dress closed. He broke the kiss to look into your eyes; a silent request for permission. You nodded, earning yourself one of those bright, boyish smiles of him that you loved so much it knocked the breath out of your chest every time in it’s intensity. He undid the knot felling like a little kid opening a birthday present, and let your dress fall open, exposing to him the lacy black bralette and simple cotton panties you were wearing.

“You’re blushing” You pointed out.

“I know” He replied, “I can feel my cheeks burning just thinking about what I want to do to you”

Whatever it was you’ve been expecting, that candid answer wasn’t it. Heath pooled low inside you.

“What are you waiting for?” You defied him.

“There isn’t time” He objected, eyes still roaming your body, fisting his hands to stop them from shaking from the effort of not letting them follow the path his eager eyes were tracing. You checked your Stark watch casually, as if standing half naked in front of _Peter fucking Parker_ was something you did every day.

“The new course has been set to London” You informed, “That gives us about an hour, almost enough time, don’t you think?” You joked.

“No,” He countered, “not even nearly” He attacked your lips again, hungry, hard. Strong arms found their rightful place around your waist, and Peter took a moment to awe at the way your body fit right in his hands, before easily lifting you up and placing you on the narrow counter as if you were weightless. You wrapped your legs around his hips, like you had a thousand times before, whenever he would take you swinging across the city on his webs. His touch felt searing, leaving fiery trails on it’s wake. A strangled moan left his lips as his hardened length made contact with your core, sending a wave of pleasure through both of your bodies. Despite his previous statement of not having time, his hands were slow, and his mouth was slower, the strokes of his tongue against your own in perfect tandem with the rocking of his hips against your center. He released your lips to suck a bruise on that little spot on your neck that he remembered making you do such pretty noises for him the last time, scrapping his teeth gently on the sensitive skin.

“Peter…”

“Shhh…” He whispered hotly against the shell of your ear, “We’re gonna have to be really quiet, can you do that for me baby girl?”  
You nodded, not trusting your voice. You felt his smile against your skin, right before he started dipping lower and lower, kissing reverently at your collarbone, sucking a mark right above your breast, latching his teeth on the strap of your bra and pulling it down your shoulder along with the sleeve of your dress, baring your left boob to his ministrations. He wasted no time in placing a little catlike lick on your nipple, pausing to hear your sharp intake of breath. Satisfied that that was the only sound you made, he started to suck in earnest, turning it into an even harder peak than it already was. You had to bit your lip to keep silent, holding onto his head to find some purchase and arched your back. He took the hint and nibbled tenderly, making you see stars.

“Peter, please,” You breathed “I’m ready…”

He returned to devour your mouth, hooking his hands on the back of your knees and pulling you forward, to grind you harder onto his leather covered bulge. Those pants really left nothing to the imagination and you could feel him, huge and hot and angry and pulsing against your pussy. A wave of wetness leaked out of you and you could swear you felt his nostrils expand against your face. Could he actually smell your arousal?

“I’m not” He confessed against your jaw, pushing his hands further up the inside of your thighs, spreading you wider for him “I want to taste you. I didn’t have the chance at the lake, and it’s all I can think about. Can I taste you?” He pleaded, “Please, baby girl, say I can taste you…”

“Fuck yeah” You heard yourself answer.  
That was all he needed, cause he immediately dropped to his knees and got to work, mouthing at your core through your underwear, massaging your clit with his tongue. 

You couldn’t help to whine,

“Peter… please”

He smirked, looking up,

“Don’t care…please” You could barely make sense but it didn’t matter, because at that moment, Peter finally pulled your panties to the side, and licked one long stripe along your slit. “Such a pretty pussy… so wet for me”, you heard him mutter to himself, almost in awe, before really delving into it, sucking and  
licking into you as if he didn’t even need to breath. Which he probably didn’t, but you were long past coherent thought, his tongue thrusting deep inside you robbing you of it.

“I was right” He muttered between licks, “You taste like heaven. Want to know how delicious you taste, baby?”

You nodded your head, because you would have done anything he wanted right then. He dipped one fingertip in your entrance and your legs trembled, so he adjusted his grip on you, wrapping an arm around your waist. He used his free hand to slide a finger inside you, collecting your juices, and took it out, reaching up to your lips and staring intently up at your face. You sucked it readily, tasting yourself and moaning, putting on a show for him.

It worked. You could swear you saw his pupils grow wide until there was almost no brown left. He buried his index finger inside you again, sucking delicately at your clit at the same time. He withdrew it slowly, only to glide it in again along a second one, thrusting deep. You were a thrashing mess above him, head banging against the mirror behind you every time your threw it back in pleasure. He didn’t relent on his assault, you could feel his strong tongue slipping inside along his fingers. You anchored yourself burying your own fingers on his hair, tugging hard whenever the tip of his tongue found that spot inside you, biting your lip so hard to keep from screaming that you were sure you’d drew blood. You felt the familiar warmth building and knew you were getting close, but he stopped and stood up, obscenely whipping your juices from his lips with the back of his hand.

You whined pitifully, but he was on you in a second, sucking and licking at your swollen, bloody lip, singing praise against your mouth,

“So good for me, so quiet… my good girl, my angel…” He framed your face with his hands, forcing you to meet his eye until the haze of lust cleared from yours somewhat and you were able to focus on him enough to understand what he was saying.

“Next time, I’ll feel you come on my tongue,” He promised, voice dark and husky with arousal, “but right now, I need to be inside you”

That was the best idea you had heard all summer, and you nodded your head enthusiastically,

“F-first… aid k-kit” You managed to get out. He reached out to your left and rummaged through the kit one handed, until he found the little box of condoms. He pulled one out and teared open the wrapper.

“Can I do it?” Your question took him by surprise, and he looked at you inquisitively. It had been a fantasy of yours for some time. You kind of just wanted to get your hands on his dick somehow ever since you had accidentally seen him naked on the med bay. He swallowed hard, but nodded once.

Eyes never leaving yours, he carefully, very slowly, undid the button and zipper of his pants. You would have called him a teased but you soon learned the reason of his cautiousness, and lifted an eyebrow.

“Going commando, Parker? Kinky, I like it”

He blushed. After all the sinful, dirty things he had just done to you, he actually, genuinely blushed.

“Shut up, it’s a really tight suit, pants wouldn’t go up if I wore underwear…”

“I’m not judging…” the rest of your sentence died in your throat as he freed himself from the pants. God, he was… impressive. Uncut, and not too long but thick, and you could perfectly remember how his girth felt stretching you and filling you like no one had before. You reached for him, starting to roll the  
condom down his length. He twitched in your hands, and you felt your mouth water. You promised yourself that, next time, you would be the one tasting him.

Meanwhile, Peter couldn’t decide if he was being blessed or tortured. The sight of your small hands all over his big cock had to be the single hottest thing he had ever seen in his life, and would have been enough to make him come. As it was, he was sure the image was going to be branded forever on his brain, to come back and haunt him every night, when he was alone and feverish and sweaty on his bed, wishing it was your hand instead of his the one to bring him to completion.

But the actual feeling of you touching him? It was almost too much to take. You stroked him a couple times once the condom was firmly in place, and he could have died right there in your hands. And what a way to go would that have been, but then those hands were grabbing him and guiding him to your entrance, and his head was disappearing inside you, and he had to grab at the counter, burying his cry on your neck to stop from shooting his load. It took all the strength he had to stop himself from slamming into you, but he wanted you to feel it all; every single inch of him sinking slowly, excruciatingly slowly inside your heath, every second of him spearing you open.

He bottomed out, leaning back to meet your eyes as he, as slowly as he had entered you, withdrew from you almost all the way, until only his tip remained inside. He surged forward again, a little faster, building up a rhythm. Your pussy was perfection, swallowing him, hot and tight, wet and inviting and all his. He was going to make you all his, giving you just enough friction, filling you up so good, making you come so hard that you would forget everything but him, and the way he was thrusting in and out of you. Life would hold no meaning beyond coming on his cock again, and again… and again.

It was only payback, really; because for him, life no longer held any meaning beyond you, and your eyes, and your laugh, and your voice, and the way you were wrapping your legs and your arms around him.

And it felt like coming home… you were home… that was were he belonged: between your legs, forever.

He was pounding into you earnestly now, and you were clutching at his shoulders, eyes glassy and unfocused, mouth open in a silent, perfect little oh, tiny frown on your face, as if so much pleasure was confusing. You looked so pure and innocent as he was fucking you… You were so perfect, and he had  
been so close to screwing up so bad, with his stupid plan of getting over you using MJ. He didn’t deserve you, he knew he didn’t, but he wasn’t man enough to let you go. He wasn’t strong enough, or noble enough, to push you away, to set you free to find someone worthy of you. No, instead of that he wanted  
you for himself, and with the gods as his witnesses, he was going to ruin you for anybody else. He made sure to grind his pubic bone into your clit with every stroke, one hand splayed around your back, pressing you close, rubbing your hard nipples on his torso, the lace covering one only adding to the sensations. You mewled almost inaudibly, still obeying his command to be silent. Yeah, you were perfect.

“So perfect… taking my cock so well… my angel”

You weren’t sure he knew he was talking out loud, but it was electrifying anyway. He was so deep now, so hot inside you. Peter always had ran a core temperature slightly higher than normal, part of his peculiar metabolism, and it felt delicious. You couldn’t hold back a broken sob.

“Gonna come? Gonna come on my cock, my angel? Wanna feel that pretty pussy squeeze me good,” he sucked your earlobe between his teeth, “Come on baby girl, let me feel it…”

You shook your head, because as good as it was feeling, you knew he was holding back.

And you wanted everything.

“Please… Pete, please…”

“What is it, baby girl? Tell me what you need” He moved his hand to massage your exposed boob, fingers grazing your hard nipple, making you roll your eyes. It took you a few seconds to gather your thoughts again.

“Harder, fuck me harder…”

He moaned, but shook his head no.

“Don’t… don’t wanna hurt you”

“I can take it, I promise. Please…” You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a passionate, wild, dirty open mouthed kiss, “Please, please, you know you want to…”

The truth was, Peter did want to. He wanted it harder, and faster, and deeper. He wanted to fuck you roughly, bury his mistakes deep between your legs, wanted to get lost in you and forget all about them. Wanted you to fuck away the pain, because only you could. He was close to breaking.

You licked into his open mouth, filthily,

“Please, I can take it, give it to me baby boy. I can take it, please…”

“God, you beg so pretty” He growled, snaking one arm around your waist, lifting you up from the counter and impaling you on his cock hard, over and over. You had no purchase, no control at all, couldn’t do anything but hold onto him for dear life and take it as he was giving it to you.

And you fucking loved it.

His free hand went to your neck, not squeezing, just resting, almost reverently. A primitive, possessive gesture.

“This what you wanted, angel? Getting fucked hard? Getting that sweet pussy destroyed?”

You didn’t answer, instead lowering your face a little, to be able to reach at two of the fingers holding your neck and sucking them into your mouth to muffle the screams that wanted to get out. Peter’s eyes went wide.

“Holy fucking shhh… baby girl you gonna make me…”

You released his fingers, biting your lips again. Peter pushed his thumb inside your mouth to make you stop.

“S-stop… baby girl… no hurting yourself… again. Me, bite me… instead”

“You’re hurt enough!” You refused.

“It’s different…” he was pistoning in and out of you mercilessly now “You’ll make it good… I know you’ll make it hurt so good…”

One particularly vicious thrust of his hips later, and you were latching your teeth on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, biting down hard trying to drown your cry of ecstasy as galaxies exploded behind your eyes. He cursed, felling you flutter and tighten around him. He gave a couple last, uncoordinated thrusts before his knees buckled and he fell back sitting on the closed toilet, as he came.

You were still straddling him, still connected.

“Woah…” You were a little surprised to see he was breathing as hard as you, didn’t he had like, super- human stamina or something? “That was…”

“I know” You were almost purring, complete sated, a puddle in his arms as he ran his hands up and down your back. He groaned and hid his face in your neck.

“We are so dead! There’s no way Happy didn’t hear that…”

“I know!” You chuckled, the vibrations producing a different kind of groan from Peter, who was still very much hard and ready inside you.

“You’re still…”

“I know!” His words were stifled against your neck, “I told you there wasn’t enough time…”

You leaned back to be able to look at him, a little lost for words. The sheepish look on his face, however, had you breaking into a full laugh.

“So, there’s that super-human stamina!”

“What?”

“Nothing,” You replied, trying to calm down for his benefit. He looked so unsure, probably thinking there was something wrong with him when in fact it was the opposite, he could be so self deprecating sometimes “I just realized I have the perfect boyfriend.”

His whole face lit up,

“Boyfriend, huh?”

“Yes, boyfriend” You confirmed, peppering his face with little, adoring kisses, “My hot,” kiss “strong,” kiss “brilliant boyfriend”

“I like the sound of that…” He smiled, placing one last, chaste kiss on your forehead before helping you stand up, groaning a little as he slipped out of you.

“Good. Now, would my boyfriend help me find my panties, cause…” You trailed off as he picked a piece of fabric the color of your underwear from the floor with the guiltiest look on his face.

“Sorry,” he said without meeting your eyes, “I must have torn them apart at some point during our…”

The fact that he couldn’t bring himself to say the word _fucking _after all his dirty talk while you were, well, fucking, shouldn’t have been so endearing.

“Babe,” He perked up at the nickname, sounding so right out of your lips, “never, ever apologize for tearing my clothes out of my body.” You finished, as sternly as you could. His musical laugh filled the bathroom,

“Duly noted, baby girl…”

After you and Peter cleaned up and redress, you left the tiny bathroom only to find the main room of the jet completely deserted, a note on one of the tables the only sign of Happy Hogan’s presence.

“Item 23A” Peter read out loud, “What does it even mea…”

The jet’s secret on board lab was opening up and presenting the new armor to him before he even finished the question.

“Wow, mister Stark certainly outdid himself this time!” Peter admired the new suit that fitted him as a second skin.

“Mister Stark? Oh no, babe,” You corrected, your own suit materializing around you in the exact same way his did around him, “that one was all me…”

Before Peter could say the praise that without a doubt was about to leave his mouth, your dad’s voice resounded on his coms.

“Mister Parker! So nice of you to finally join us!” Tony’s voice was dripping sarcasm, and Peter hurried to apologize.

“Mister Stark! Before anything else I would like to tell you that I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I-…”

“Zip it, Underoos, we’ll talk about the defiling of my plane later, Happy is _traumatized_…”

“What? No!” Peter was thrown, “Well, I mean, yes, sorry bout that too, but I was talking about EDITH…”

“No need to apologize for that, kid” Tony’s tone softened, “Quentin Beck is a manipulative, psychotic, megalomaniac piece of shit, and if I had agreed to meet with Fury just once, I could have told him that and save us all this trouble. That one is on me…”

“Dad, come on, that’s not-…”

“Nu-uh, young lady, I don’t wanna hear a single word from you, I will deal with you after Fishbowlhead is dead. What is it with you and that plane, anyway? Every time you decide to try and give me a heart attack, it has something to do with that plane…”

“Hey! How do you know it was my fault? Peter is here too, you know?”

Your boyfriend threw you a betrayed look, but your father laughed,

“Oh, really? Peter decided to seduce you in the bathroom?”

Your silence was all the answer he needed.

“That’s what I thought, don’t ever try to lie to my face again, little miss.”

“Technically, it wasn’t to your face…” you protested.

“Don’t get smart with me, y/n…” your father’s tone was warning.

“I can’t help it, I’m always smart.”

“Yeah, well, you are also grounded” He declared, but you could hear the smile in his voice. He could never stay mad at you for too long, and when Peter stole a glance of your lovely eyes shinning with mischief, he kinda understood him: You had your father wrapped around your little finger, just like you had him.

“Now, if you both are done interrupting me, we have work to do. Team, report your situation” Tony Stark commanded, all humor gone from his voice.

“Team? What?”

Peter’s bewildered voice has cut off by a familiar, irreverent one,

“Ironlad in position, ready to begin” Harley Keener informed, vibrating with enthusiasm through the coms.

“Stature in position too, just finished with the evacuation, sir” Cassie Lang’s more serious notes reached your ears and you couldn’t help but smile. These were your friends, these was your team. You knew what they were capable of, and you knew that, no matter what, they would have your back.

“Ironheart, you’re next, you know what to do, tell me as soon you get visual of your target” Your father ordered, and for what was probably the first time in your life, you obeyed at once, ejecting your self from the plane.

“Alright, then, I’m rebooting EDITH and flushing out Mysterio’s malware out of the system, the Stark drones are going offline but he still has his own, so it should be easy but be careful non the less.

Peter, I’m sending the Baby Monitor Protocol’s footage of your previous fight with Mysterio when he confessed his evil plan to you to every news network in the planet, just giving you a heads up. He wants to be the biggest hero in the world? Too bad, because we are going to expose him as the fraud he is. He’s all yours kid, kick his ass, Spider-Man! And let’s do this as quick and clean as we can, children: Today is the day the world meets the Young Avengers!”

A chorus of cheers and exited exclamations reached his ears, and Peter couldn’t help the smile that spread through his face,

“Yes, sir! We’ll make you proud!”

“Oh, and one more thing” Tony added, closing the coms to everyone but Peter, “Protect my little girl out there, would you?”

Peter didn’t know what possessed him, later he would reason he was still high on the afterglow, drunk on you and the way you had of making him feel invincible. Whatever the reason, he had no better idea than to answer,

“With all due respect, sir, she is my girl now”

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> So there it goes, my first smut. I hope it didn't suck too much, constructive criticism is VERY appreciated! Thanks for reading this super long, super emotional smut fest!  
Also, I decided that sex between two sixteen year olds it's just too... Icky. And since this is MY AU and I DO WHAT I WANT WITH IT, Peter and the reader have 18 in this, Peter is a senior in highschool and the trip to Europe is for seniors. Makes sense to me, cause where I live, only seniors get to go on those kinda trips.


End file.
